Friends are better
by StarGirl13th
Summary: Blaine is living in New York. I'm, yeah, that's about it, it doesn't make much reference to Glee other than Blaine. He's in university, and part of a fight club. Oneshot. Enjoy!


I slung my bag over my shoulder and pushed through the doors that opened into another world.

The change was instant- a din reverberated around the room, sweaty men were flexing and brawling and a loud *ding ding ding* told me that somebody had just been beaten. And now it was my turn.

I turn off my emotions when I fight. You can't afford to feel pity, sympathy, shame or guilt. It's a dog eats dog world in a Fight Club, and I tended to only be the top dog when I put my feelings aside and just punched, kicked and wrestled.

Of course I would be lying if I told you that stress relief was my sole reason for joining fight club. The, I guess you could say, "eye candy" is a large contributing factor. Of course I'd be kicked out if they knew. I may be the best fighter there, but I don't think the other guys would appreciate knowing that I see them as possible romantic partners rather than sparring partners. But, I'm lonely. I'd never say that to anybody else but then again, even if I did want to tell somebody I'd have no one to say it to.

It doesn't just happen- I have to work to stay strong. Having my own bedroom in the University accommodation is a big advantage, as I somehow don't think my roomate would appreciate listening to me box at five o'clock in the morning. Or any time really.

I'm annoyed, because I had to wake up early to finish a stupid literature essay on "To kill a mockingbird". Brilliant book, redundant task. You'd think that a university course of English Literature would delve into some of history's more complex stories, but no, to "fully appreciate" it, we have to start out by reviewing a book I read when I was twelve. I know, I'm being a jerk, but these days, the smallest thing seems to rattle my cage. It's been almost two weeks since I last went to Fight Club and I'm getting antsy. Hitting a punching bag doesn't have quite the same effect, but it's all I've got, so I go at the heavy sack with everything I've got.

It's been half an hour now and I'm sweating like a madman and my knuckles are bruised blue. Panting, I reach for my water bottle, and it is then my door bursts open.

"Lucy!"

The long legged girl squeals excitedly as strands of strawberry blonde hair whip around her face.

When she looks at me, I'm not quite sure I can tell who's more embarrassed. Quickly, I weigh up the situation in my head. I am drenched I sweat and I am not wearing a shirt.

She, has obviously just come into the wrong room in a ridiculously flamboyant fashion. I reason with myself that I have no right to feel humiliated so, in my most polite voice I can manage, I ask, "May I help you?"

Her face, now closely resembles a tomato, but her mouth opens to say, "I am...so sorry. I think I got the wrong room number. Well, OBVIOUSLY I got the wrong room number. I'm looking for my sister. Her name's Lucy. Do you perhaps know where she is?"

I marvel at this girl's ability to so quickly jump back into regular conversation after such a flustered encounter and I warm to her almost immediately.

"She's studying engineering right?"

"Yes."

I quickly think and then tell her, "East Wing, dorm 38. All the engineering students are there because it's so close to the workshops"

She beams and the tomato effect has mostly disappeared, apart from the rosy blush on her cheeks which I am guessing is a permanent feature.

"Thank you. I'm Kaitlyn, by the way."

"Blaine Anderson" I reply.

She looks intrigued to I tell her the same 19 word story I have to recite to everybody when they hear my name for the first time.

"I lived in Switzerland until I was 16 and then I moved here to study English Literature and Philosophy."

The clouded expression on her face fades and she grins.

"That's cool. I've lived here my whole life but I'd love to travel to Europe someday."

And it is then that the conversation starts. I put on a shirt after she said that, and told her all about Switzerland, and what it's like there. She told me all about her life in New Zealand and what she wants to do one day. When she leaves I feel sad and it's a strange feeling for me, usually I'm happier when I'm alone.

It is then that I realise I had found a friend. And that made me happier than being alone ever could


End file.
